Memory Lane
by royallyblue
Summary: AU - John Carter leaves his past behind, moves in with his parents and joins the staff at County. Abby Lockhart is busy dealing with her own person issues. Please read and review. Carby.
1. Default Chapter

**TITLE: ****Memory Lane**

**SUMMARY: AU – John Carter leaves his past behind him, moves in with his parents and picks up a job at ****County****General****. Abby Lockhart is dealing with her own personal issues. Carby.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so please – read and review and be kind! Thanks!**

John glanced down at the gray tombstone once more before backing away from the spot. Tears clouded his eyes and he couldn't believe he'd be leaving after all these years.

"Daddy?"

He turned to the tiny face in the car window. He swallowed back his tears and took his seat behind the wheel, his heart heavy. His somber face worried even himself and he tried to smile at the children in the back of the car.

"We're going to live with Grandma and Grandpa," he stated, his voice hoarse and his throat aching. "You guys will love Chicago."

He glanced through the rear-view mirror at Tristan and Anna. Anna, barely two years old would never remember her mother and Tristan, just six, would only have distant blurry memories to cling to.

"Daddy?" Tristan began again, "Mommy's never going to wake up, will she?"

John choked on a sob and shook his head.

"No, sweetie, Mommy's never going to wake up."

Tristan thumped against the back of his leather seat and stared out the window. John tried to focus his attention on the road ahead of them, but his mind kept slipping back to Tracy. Images of twirling her around the kitchen to the tunes of The Beatles, her favorites. Or biking down their street with Tristan on his bike between them and Anna strapped in a seat behind him. He couldn't shake off the grief he'd been feeling for the past few months and he couldn't seem to grasp the fact that he was alone with two children to raise. It scared him to death.

It was hours before his car turned onto the long, winding Carter driveway and Tristan and Anna were both sleeping peacefully in the back of the car. He woke Tristan gently and picked Anna up in his arms. Taking Tristan's hand, he approached the heavy mahogany doors of the mansion and run the bell.

"We're here," he said to Tristan, patting the boy lightly on the head and ruffling his hair. Tristan took John's free hand and squeezed it tightly. They hadn't been to visit Jack and Eleanor in years and Tristan was understandably nervous.

A maid answered the door with a smile.

"Dr. Carter," she greeted, "Your parents have been waiting. Follow me, please."

As he walked down the wide, high-ceilinged hallway with his son nudged against his hip and his daughter sleeping against his shoulder, John was overcome with a horrible sadness that he couldn't shake. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that things would be okay now, he knew he was failing.

He had quit his job in New York and who knew what would happen now. His wife, his backbone, was gone. He remembered the night that police had knocked on his door, their heads bowed, their eyes pitying. He had fallen against the threshold of the doorway, desperately trying to get some air, fighting. Even now, months later, all he saw before him was an expanse of darkness. He had children to raise and god knew he couldn't do it alone. He was left alone in the world – the one thing he had feared the most all his life. He had resorted to returning to his parents' house. His son was lost in the world without a mother and forced to leave his friends – his last strand of stability – behind and his daughter, so young and innocent and his daughter would be forced to grow up in the world with no female influence.

He would cry if he weren't walking down his parents' hallway.

They had reached the end of the hallway and he stood facing the informal living room. His parents were sitting at the couch, talking quietly between themselves. His mother looked up from her seat and her face lit with recognition.

"John!" she exclaimed, jumping up and approaching him. John could feel Tristan burrowing further against his body and he squeezed the little boy's hand tightly in reassurance.

"Mom," he said as she kissed each of his cheeks respectively.

"And you are Tristan," Eleanor stated as she crouched down to be face-to-face with the young boy, "My, how you've grown! You're looking more and more like your daddy everyday." Tristan smiled shyly, though it was apparent that he was uncomfortable with the situation.

"Tristan, say hello to Grandma Eleanor," John said softly, not at all reproachful. He knew how badly it would reflect on him if he didn't remind his son of his manners in his parents' presence.

"Hi, Grandma Eleanor and Grandpa Jack," was the meek response.

"Well, you all must be starving!" Eleanor exclaimed, gesturing with her hands toward the dining room, "We've had dinner ready for a while now. Come and let's chow down!" She winked at Tristan and beckoned her husband to follow her.

Jack Carter lagged behind his wife and fell into step next to John. He put a firm arm on his son's shoulder and said quietly, "It'll be okay, kiddo."

John smiled appreciatively, but his smile disappeared quickly and was replaced by a look of sad recollection. Everything was so screwed up.

"Do you have any plans for the near future?" Jack called him back from his silent reverie.

"Yeah, I got a job at Cook County General. Heard of it?"

Jack nodded his head slowly, "Couldn't get in Northwestern or Mercy?"

"I called your contacts, but they couldn't fit me in. They're on doctor overload as it is. The only place that seemed to need an ER doctor was County."

Jack chuckled, "They're a government sponsored hospital. Downtown Chicago. You know, not exactly upperclass, but you'll be okay. I have faith in you." He smiled encouragingly and John tried to mirror his expression.

Jack put his hand on Tristan's shoulder.

"So, young man, how do you like horse-back riding?"

A/N: Please read and review. Also, I spent more time on Carter's life than I anticipated. I'll get to the ER in the next chapter – I promise. A


	2. Chapter II

**Memory Lane **

**-part 2-**

John tucked his son beneath the blankets and planted a firm kiss on his forehead.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Tristan."

"Is this where we're going to live from now on?"

John looked into the sad eyes of the boy in the bed and nodded slowly.

"For a while, Trist. I'm going to be at work and Grandma Eleanor and Grandpa Jack can watch you. You heard Grandpa Jack, they have horses here. You can learn how to ride."

He threw in the anticipatory last line out of mere tact. He knew Tristan was disappointed.

"We left Mommy in New York."

Carter contemplated that last line for a few seconds. He took Tristan's hand into his own and looked straight into the boy's eyes.

"We didn't leave Mommy in New York, buddy. Mommy is right here with us," he took Tristan's hand and lay it on his heart, "She's right in there, Tristan, watching us and talking to us from our hearts."

"But that's not good enough," Tristan whispered, tears coming to his eyes. This wasn't the first time he'd cried in the last half a year and Carter knew it wouldn't be the last.

"We have each other," Carter said and he smiled sadly at his son, "and we have Anna. And we're going to make it work, kiddo. We're going to try out best to make it work."

Tristan bolted up in bed and thrust his arms around Carter's torso.

"Dad, don't ever leave us," he begged.

Carter put his arms gently around his son.

"I won't, Tristan, I won't."

---

John lay in bed a few days later. His alarm clock wasn't set to go off for nearly an hour, but he lay there anyway, thinking. He couldn't sleep. He wished it would just be morning already so that he could go to his first day at his job. Nerves were making his shiver despite the heat of the room.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but a small cry from the next room made his stir. He stood and pulled a robe around himself, hurrying into the next room so Anna didn't wake Tristan.

He lifted the girl from her crib and cradled her against his chest.

"Anna, don't cry, baby," he crooned. He wished that Tracy were there – she had such a way with Anna. The girl looked into his eyes and blathered out choppy sentences and inarticulate words. Her sniffling slowed and her crying hushed.

"That's right, Anna, it's okay. You're a big girl now, aren't you?"

Her blue eyes and button nose were exact imitations of her mother's and it broke John's heard to look at them.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you, sweetie," he whispered, taking a seat in the rocking chair next to the crib, "I don't know how I'm going to raise you to be a good girl without your Mommy there to help me." Anna's eyes were closing already as John felt a tear trickle down his cheek.

"She was so special, your Mommy. She always knew what to do. What are we going to do without her? I can't live without her. Tristan needs her and you need her and it isn't fair that she's not here anymore." He sobbed into h is daughter's curly brown head, "It's just not fair."

John sat like that for a bit, rocking and humming and letting out an occasional sob until he calmed himself and rested his daughter back in the crib.

"See you later today, Annie. Wish me luck at my new job." He planted a kiss on her forehead and wiped away a stray strand of damp hair, "I love you, baby girl."

---

John stepped into the whirring buzz of County General hospital the next day and looked around his fretfully. Everything was moving so fast. He had thought that ER life in Manhattan was hectic, but it was nothing compared to what seemed to be going on here.

He watched as a woman down the hall spotted him and approached him. Her tag read ABIGAIL LOCKHART M.D. and she looked pleasant enough.

"You look lost," she smiled at him, "but not sick. Are you looking for a patient?"

He grinned at her appreciatively. She was nice and friendly and kind of cute. Her brown highlighted hair was tied back in a high ponytail and beneath her lab coat she was wearing a pair of jeans and a white V-neck t-shirt. She was far from ugly.

"Actually, my name's John Carter, I'm supposed to be starting here today. I'm looking for a," he consulted the paper in his hand, "Kerry Weaver."

"Oh, Dr. Weaver. I'll get her for you if you like. You just wait here," she gestured to a row of chairs a few feet away, "She's on the prowl today, though, so watch out." With a wink, she was gone.

John took a seat and looked around him again. Really, things weren't all that bad. If one watched closely enough, there was a rhythm to the madness. Plus, if all the doctors were as pleasant as Abigail, he didn't think he'd have a problem.

An angry looking woman limped toward him, leaning against her crutch. He stood as she came within a few feet of him and thrust out a hand.

"I'm John Carter," he said with a forced smile. His nerves were returning.

"Kerry Weaver. I'm Chief of Staff and co-Chief of Emergency Medicine here. I've only got fifteen minutes, so some of the nurses will have to cover whatever ground we miss on the tour. I'll show you to the lounge and we can talk there."

John nodded and picked up his bag. He followed her to the 'lounge' – which ended up being a locker room with a kitchenette, table and couch, not like his Manhattan hospital at all – and he listened as she drawled on about hospital policies and rules. He wasn't catching most of what she was saying and his mind drifted off occasionally. He kept having memories of the good-natured camaraderie of New York and his friends there. This woman, this Kerry Weaver, was nothing like any of his old acquaintances and he could tell nothing got past her.

He followed her on the tour and though wistfully of the Abigail Lockhart who had greeted him. His only hope was that the rest of the staff was more like her, or he was in trouble.

"I've got to run," Dr. Weaver said with a glance at her watch. John knew he shouldn't grin, despite the pun. "Doctor Lewis," she called to a blonde doctor who was sitting at the information desk, "This is Dr. Carter. Show him around, will you?" And she was off.

John stood wondering if all the doctors here called each other by their formal titles.

"I'm Susan," a bubbly voice called him from his reverie, "And don't mind Weaver. She gets that way."

John smiled.

"They didn't tell me the new attending was so cute," Susan said with a grin and John smiled back.

---

It was noon and John had just punched out for a twenty minute lunch break. He glanced around wondering what to do with himself. Feeling lost again, he headed toward the lounge.

His first morning hadn't been bad. County was a lot busier than New York had ever been, but aside from that it had been okay. The people were friendly enough and Susan had been kind enough to take him through the morning under her wing. She was pleasant and bubbly and talked constantly about her husband and small son.

John hadn't mentioned his children. He didn't want the awkward questions that came with explaining how he had lost his wife.

He pulled open the lounge door to the sound of someone speaking harshly.

"Maggie, no. I don't care what he said, don't come down here. No. No, I'll be back later tonight. If you come down here, I'll…" He watched curiously as Abby flung the phone down on the cradle again and slumped into the couch.

He considered re-exiting the room, but, as he knew of nowhere else to go, decided to stay. He tried to act as though he hadn't witnessed the telephone brawl, but it was obvious that Abby was embarrassed.

"Sorry about that," she muttered, "Family stuff, you know."

He nodded sympathetically, awkwardly. He felt dumb just standing there.

"Yeah," he said, slapping his hands on the thighs of his slacks. "Stuff happens."

She nodded into her hands and brushed her fingers through her hair. The room was silent for a few awkward seconds.

"Well, that was embarrassing," she said finally. "Sorry you had to see the darker side of Abby on your first day here." She tried to lighten the situation with a grin, but it looked more like a grimace.

"Kids?" he asked finally, pulling up a chair. Why not? He decided.

"Worse," she sighed, "Mothers."

"Ah," he nodded wisely, "I know what you mean. I've been staying at my parents' house for the past few days. For a while I considered starting work early just to be rid of her."

Abby smiled and then eyed him strangely.

"Bit old to be living back at home, John," she said with a wink.

"Yeah, well," he grinned back. Surprisingly, he was actually enjoying her light taunting. "Just moved back from New York. Trying to get myself back on my feet, you know."

She nodded.

"So, how was your first morning at glorious County?"

He chuckled, "Busier than I anticipated," he admitted, "And I don't know where the cafeteria is."

Abby threw her head back and laughed at loud. He had to grin at her laugh. It was bubbly and fun and just… funny.

"Cafeteria food here sucks. I'm off for another fifteen minutes; I'll take to the god-awful-but-much-better-than-the-cafeteria place across the street. You'll thank me for it." She pulled herself off the couch and headed toward the door of the lounge. John followed suit.


	3. Chapter III

**Memory Lane**

**- part 3 -**

_I just want to thank you all so much for reviewing. It means a lot to me and I really appreciate that you all took the few seconds to consider my story and tell me what you thought. Thanks a ton… you guys rock!_

_---_

John walked into the lounge and she was sitting on the couch, her elbows resting on her knees and her head nuzzled in his hands.

She was crying.

He glanced around the room, trying to find a distraction, anything that would save him from discomfort.

There was nothing.

He sighed and approached her, really not knowing what to say but knowing that he couldn't leave it at that. Knowing that he had to do something.

"What's wrong?" he asked, taking a seat beside her on the couch, "I mean, I know that it's probably none of my business, but care to talk about it?"

She looked up at him for a second and she seemed to be registering information in her head.

John had been working at County for a week now and he still felt out of the loop. It was beginning to frustrate him now – the fact that everybody seemed to be best friends, sharing inside jokes and grinning at each other in the halls – it was upsetting because no one seemed to be accepting him.

He wasn't really trying to get her to talk. He knew she wouldn't. He remembered their lunch that day at Doc Magoo's. The strained conversation, the uncomfortable silences, the distance. He had been hoping so hard when he followed her into the small restaurant that he had found a friend, but he had been distant and she hadn't pushed him to open up, so nothing had come of it. Nothing at all.

"How much does life suck?" she said finally, pulling herself up and resting against the back of the couch, "I mean, as a kid, I used to think that life was supposed to be fair. But now… nope. I mean, I don't deserve this."

He was surprised she had said anything at all and he didn't know how to respond.

"I know what you mean," he said finally, surprising even himself with his verbalization, "Life is the pits."

She nodded.

"What happened?" she asked finally, taking a moment to look at him.

"You first," he said.

John wanted to smile, but it seemed the wrong time. He wanted to give her a pat on the back, but it seemed the wrong time. Finally, he settled with just listening.

It was the most welcome he'd felt since his first day here and he didn't want to spoil it.

"I'm two months behind on my rent, I'm housing my bi-polar mother whose crazy antics are threatening to have me kicked out of the building anyway, I've totally screwed up my love life and this job sucks." On the last note, she grinned at him ruefully, "You? How did you end up at County?"

He looked down at his shoes, "My wife passed away and I couldn't bear to live in New York anymore… that and I couldn't raise my kids on my own. So I picked up and did the only thing I could think of… move back home with good 'ole Mom and Dad."

Abby looked at him for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry," she said hesitantly, "And I'm sorry I've been in such a crappy mood lately. This whole hospital's been tense since Mercy closed down for ER renovations… you know, the onset of emergency victims has been killing us."

He nodded and sighed.

"Well," he said, "I guess I should get going. I hope everything gets better for you and your Mom. It'll be okay."

"You too," she said, nodding.

He turned to leave the lounge, not even remembering what he had come for in the first place.  
"Hey," said Abby as he opened the door, "I'm off at seven, want to catch a late dinner or something?"

John thought about it momentarily, considering his own schedule before nodding.

"Sure, that sounds great," he said finally, hoping that this meal would be slightly less catastrophic than the last.


End file.
